


Older Siblings: A Plague on Our Society

by damthosefandoms



Series: And they all lived happily ever after [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brothers, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Humor, Jason Todd is a little shit, Mugging, Older Sibling Dick Grayson, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Tim Drake is a little shit as well, also a little (very little) easter egg of dick’s old partner amy in the background, but know I love her anyway, he's so tired, it's younger sibling culture, she’s not relevant so I’m not tagging her also I can’t spell her last name, that's how being a sibling works everyone knows that, which means sometimes you just gotta mug your little brother in an alley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damthosefandoms/pseuds/damthosefandoms
Summary: Tim gets mugged but is more annoyed than anything else. Dick just wants lunch (and for his brothers to stop playing musical chairs with his motorcycle).
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: And they all lived happily ever after [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959343
Comments: 32
Kudos: 418





	Older Siblings: A Plague on Our Society

**Author's Note:**

> (sohotthateveryonedied here!! dam let me hack into her account and post this for her hehe i'm a criminal) (she wrote it though i'm just doing the posting because she's busy) (she's a great writer and I would level mountains for her)
> 
> update: my best friend called me “dam” here and you listen to me, soho, that just sorta made my brain shut down anyway give destiny some love in the comments or rot bc we love my best friend in this here house

Tim walked into the Bludhaven Police Department. He strolled up to the counter and waited for the lady to look up at him.  
  
“Can I help you?” She said, sounding tired and annoyed. But that’s kind of just how people in Bludhaven were, so Tim rolled with it.

“Yeah, uh, I was walking around downtown and I got mugged, is there anyone I can talk to about this? Like to report it, or whatever?” He asked, tapping his fingers on the desk nervously. He only had so much time to do this, after all. 

The lady nodded, and called over an officer who seemed to have been doing paperwork—or, Tim noticed, procrastinating doing paperwork. The man had been folding a blank piece of notebook paper into a paper airplane. The stack of what Tim assumed was actual paperwork remained untouched on his desk.

“This is Officer Malloy,” the lady said, as the man jumped up from his chair and walked over. “He can help you out.”

Tim smiled. 

“Thanks,” he said, turning to the officer. He held out his hand for a handshake and introduced himself. 

“My name’s Tim,” he said, “Uh, Tim Wayne.”

“Gannon Malloy,” the officer said, taking his hand and shaking it. Tim didn’t miss the confused look he sent the lady at the reception counter. 

It was fair enough, really. Most people don’t walk into a police department after getting mugged and still look like a million dollars (with the only exception being the beginnings of a black eye and some bruises on their fists that imply the mugger wasn’t the only one doing the punching).

Also, Tim was famous. That could definitely add to the confusion. 

Officer Malloy led Tim through the doors over to where his desk was.

“My partner’s out at the moment,” he explains, pulling a chair around from the desk directly across from his for Tim to sit in. “He’ll be back soon, but it’s okay if you sit here; He can get a new chair.”

Tim glanced over at the photos sitting on this so-called “partner’s” desk. They’re angled away from Malloy’s view, but Tim could see enough from the angle he was at to make out the faces on the pictures. He shifted in the seat uncomfortably. This was risky, but he was here for revenge, and revenge was what he was going to get.

“So, could you explain to me exactly what happened?” Malloy asked him, opening a new file on his computer. Tim nodded, and started to tell his story.

“As you probably are aware, I’m… not from Bludhaven.” he started. Malloy nodded. Everyone and their mother knew Tim lived in Gotham. He was Wayne Enterprises’ Superboy, after all. Conner and Jon had nothing on the billboards with Tim’s face plastered all over them.

“I‘m in town today because my brother and I are supposed to be going out for lunch,” he explained. “I got here early to surprise him by meeting him at work instead of the diner we’re going to. I parked my motorcycle in the parking garage at his apartment since it’s easier to park there, and walked the rest of the way. I was about halfway there when I realized someone was following me—that’s when they grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into an alleyway.”

Behind them, Tim could hear the door to the building open. He didn’t turn around to look, but a quick glance at a mirror on the wall lets him see what was going on. Two police officers had just entered the room—one was rolling her eyes at something the man with her was saying. He was making what seemed to be a bad joke, and, well.

This was going to be interesting.

Tim turned his attention back to the matter at hand, suddenly anxious to get the story over with quicker.

“The guy asked me for my wallet, and I told him to fuck off.”

Officer Malloy raised an eyebrow at that. “You told a guy mugging you to ‘fuck off?’” He asked, sounding impressed. Tim shrugged at him, his attention split between telling the story and watching the other officer walk right past them towards a vending machine. Tim could only pray that the man didn’t see his face, but he knew it was impossible. Tim wasn’t the only detective in the room.

“I’m from Gotham,” he said, as if that was enough of an explanation. 

Clearly, it was, because Malloy just responded, “That’s fair,” and gestured for Tim to continue talking. 

“The guy held a gun up at me, so I went to offer him my wallet, and he took it—then I used the distraction to knock the gun out of his hand.” 

Malloy’s hands paused over the keyboard.

“How did you manage—" Malloy started to ask, but Tim just waved his hand and cut him off.

“I’ve taken self-defense classes,” Tim said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Just… bending the truth. “I’ve been kidnapped before, so, you know, seemed like a good idea at the time. Definitely paid off.”

Tim risked a glance out into the room. The other officer had walked back over to them, and was now leaning against a column, listening into their conversation and shoveling potato chips into his mouth. Tim kind of felt bad for the chips. He, too, had gotten completely screwed over the second this guy walked into the room.

“Tim?” Malloy said, and Tim jumped. 

“You okay?” 

Tim nodded, then kept talking. He just had to finish the story. Deal with the consequences later.

“We got into a little bit of a fight, and he gave me this—” Tim pointed to his black eye, “—and he managed to grab my wallet and the keys to my bike. Like I said, I think he followed me from the parking garage, so there’s a good chance my bike is gone now, too.”

“That’s the whole story?” Malloy asked. Tim nodded.

“Alright, you think you could describe this guy to me? I can look him up in the system.”

Tim shrugged. He wasn’t sure using the system would work in this case. Actually, he knew it wouldn’t work. But he had eyes on him, staring him down, and Tim knew he had lost this game the second Officer “I’m Going to Obnoxiously Eat Potato Chips and Judge You” walked into the room, so he gave in anyway.

“He was tall, maybe six-two, and had green eyes,” Tim said, blocking out the officer’s face. If he looked now, he’d break. He wasn’t going to break. He was going to get revenge if it killed him. 

“He was wearing a brown leather jacket and a red shirt. Jeans, too. His hair was black, short, and he had a scar on the edge of his forehead, probably leading back into his hair. His nose was just a little crooked, like it’d been broken before and fixed wrong.” Tim could hear the crinkle of a chip bag as the police officer standing behind him balled up the empty bag and tossed it without looking into the trash can by the desk.

“Did we have any other features you could specifically identify him by?” Malloy asked, right before glancing over at the other officer and nodding at him in greeting. The officer walked over and stood behind the desk across from Malloy’s. He seemed to be listening very intently. He looked concerned—too concerned. Tim knew it was an act. 

“Yeah, uh, he had—uh—well, he was kind of tan, and his voice sounded like he used to smoke, and—"

The other officer was staring directly at him now. Tim stopped and stared back at him.

“What?” He asked, knowing full well what.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Keep going, this is really interesting,” he said. He was staring to grin, now. Tim slouched in his seat. There goes his revenge plan.

“Tim?” Malloy asked, glancing between him and the other police officer. “What else?”

“Well, uh... he had a white streak in his hair, right in the front, and...”

“And?” Malloy asked.

“And,” Dick said, stepping behind Tim to grab his jacket off the back of his desk chair, “We’re going to be late to lunch if Tim doesn’t stop trying to get Jason arrested for stealing a bike that _he_ stole from _me_ last month.”

Tim groaned. “I was _this close,_ Dick.”

Dick laughed. “Mhmm. And we’re _this close_ to missing lunch with Cass. Let’s go. We can prank call Jason when we get to the diner if it makes you feel better.”

“You know, my license is in my wallet. I need that back. I’m _not_ taking public transit home.”

“You can stay with me, then. And I’ll text Roy and have him make Jason return it.” 

Dick pulled his jacket on over his work uniform. “C’mon, I’m hungry. Later, Gannon!”

Tim stood up, muttered a quick, “Sorry for wasting your time,” to his brother’s partner, and then followed Dick out of the police department.

As they were leaving, Dick asked, “Did Jason actually threaten to shoot you?” 

“No, but he _did_ punch me.” 

“Did you punch him back?”

“What do _you_ think?”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comment with your opinion on Canadian bacon! Is it really just ham in disguise? Is this all a dastardly conspiracy run by the, quote, "nicest country in the western hemisphere"? The world may never know.
> 
> p.s. follow me on tumblr @damthosefandoms


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